Red Sox general manager Ben Cherington was a guest of WEEI’s Hot Stove Show Thursday night. Cherington was asked if there was any news regarding the status of free agent first baseman Mike Napoli, who agreed to terms on a three-year deal with the club in early December but has yet to sign the contract as concerns surfaced after the 31-year-old underwent the Red Sox’ physcial examination.

“No, there’s nothing to update,” Cherington said. “We’re, I think as everyone knows, one of our goals this offseason was to add offense at first base. We haven’t been able to really do that officially yet. We’re still talking and when you’re talking, there’s hope for a resolution. But nothing to report right now. … We have had dialogue [with Napoli]. It’s one of those situations, out of respect to Mike and the process, I’m not going to get into detail. Whenever we’re talking and there’s dialogue, it means we’re hopeful of being able to do something but we just don’t know yet. We’ll see how it plays out.”

Cherington was asked if the Red Sox have explored other options at first base. The club reportedly showed interest in Lance Berkman prior to his agreeing with Texas on a one-year, $10 million deal.

“Until something is done, you have to consider other options so we’ve had to do that and we’ve continued to consider other ways to improve the team, whether it’s at first base, or elsewhere,” Cherington said. “At this point, we just haven’t found anything that made sense to us in the sort of big picture. So that’s where we are. There’s no one particular player that’s available or not available that would have changed the course of our offseason. We’re just examining and evaluating things as they come. Certainly when you have a position you’re trying to improve on, until it’s improved upon, you have to continue to consider other options. It’s fair to say as you sort of get deeper into the winter, the free agents start to go off the board. You can look at trades and other ways to do things. It remains a focus. We’re still hoping we can do something to improve ourselves in that area before we get to Fort Myers.”

Three thoughts on the Hall of Fame results as a nation demands to know just one answer: Who voted for Aaron Sele?

1. The steroid guys ‘¦ Roger Clemens (37.6%) andBarry Bonds (36.2%) had significantly stronger first years on the ballot than Mark McGwire (23.5% in 2007) and Rafael Palmeiro(11.0% in 2011), which is I suppose is not a stunner, given where they rank in baseball history and the presumption that both were Hall of Famers before the PED stuff, as difficult as that is to prove. To that end Sammy Sosa — fair or not, defined as a product of steroids — received 12.5 percent this year, his first year of eligibility. McGwire had his worst year of support, receiving 16.9 percent, and Palmeiro his worst year, just 8.8 percent (very likely he’ll get less than the five percent needed to stay on the ballot next year). This is where the logic of voters simply eludes me — McGwire admitted he took steroids before his first year on the ballot, right? So if you voted for him at that point, what exactly has changed and why has his support slipped? It’ll be interesting to track Clemens and Bonds over the next couple of years and see if voters remain loyal or if they follow McGwire and Palmeiro. My guess? They’ll continue to slowly move up. Voters (not all of them, which is why I don’t think either will ever get to 75%) are going to get more and more comfortable voting in Clemens and Bonds, it’ll just feel safer than McGwire, Sosa and Palmeiro. And there is the one-year protest element at work here (which is of course dopey and proves nothing, either vote for them or don’t), expect both to have a fairly healthy jump next year.

2. There is zero statistical proof — none — that would lead you to conclude that Jack Morris was a better pitcher than Curt Schilling. ERA, winning percentage, ERA+, WHIP, strikeouts, Black Ink, WAR, postseason numbers — all Schilling and all Schilling handily. Seasons with an ERA under 3.30: Schilling eight, Morris three. Seasons with a WHIP under 1.10: Schilling eight, Morris none (Morris never had a season with a WHIP as good as Schilling’s career number of 1.14.) Actually, Morris has one edge — career wins (Morris 254, Schilling 216). That’s it — 38 wins. And evidently that mattered a great deal to the voters, since Morris finished with 385 votes (67.7%) to 221 (38.8%) for Schilling. Morris is really close to the 75 percent needed but has to deal withGreg Maddux(and it’s amazing to think he won’t get 100 percent of the votes, but statements need to be made) Tom GlavineandMike Mussinaall debuting on the ballot in 2014, the 15th and final year for Morris. This was a solid first year for Schilling, better than Morris did in five of his first six seasons andBert Blyleven in his first seven years on the ballot, two recent borderline guys. Schilling’s finish this year does nothing to dissuade my belief that he will eventually (and deservedly) be elected.

3. Worst ballot? My choice would be Jill Painter of the Los Angeles Daily News. She voted for Biggio and Edgar Martinez (both should be in, Biggio will get in next year or 2015 but Martinez will not, which is really a shame. If Jim Rice is in the Hall of Fame there has to be a spot for Martinez), Bernie Williams (not worthy, but not an embarrassment), Kenny Lofton(same as Williams) but somehow thought that Shawn Green earned a vote. Shawn Green. She did not vote for Tim Raines, Curt Schilling, Alan Trammell,Jeff Bagwell, Mike Piazzaor Larry Walker but voted for Green. Oe of the reasons, she explained on Twitter, was that Green did a “ton for the Jewish community.” Also she pointed to his single-game total bases record, his one Gold Glove and the fact that he scored over 1,000 runs, which only 318 players in baseball history can claim (Green is only one run behind Gary Gaetti on the all-time list). How can you take her even semi-seriously after that? And I’m almost OK with the occasional token vote for a player someone might like personally, but can we at least make sure it’s only done if every eligible player clearly better is also on his/her ballot?

Over the last year, has any player in this city been the subject of more questions than Daniel Bard?

After being so dominant for much of 2011 — zero runs allowed in June and July — why did he fall off a cliff in playing a lead role in the biggest collapse in baseball history last September?

With no Jonathan Papelbon, did Bard have the demeanor (whatever that means) to be a closer?

Starter or reliever?

Who made the decision to make Bard a starter? Was it Cherington, Lucchino, Valentine, Bob McClure (this is still all his fault, right?) or was it actually led by Bard?

What happened to his fastball? Why is it 92, 93 MPH when it used to be 98, 99 MPH?

When are the Sox going to yank him from the rotation and put him back in the eighth-inning role?

His final start of the season — and you have to think it’ll be the last start he ever makes — was a meltdown in Toronto (five runs, six walks, two batters hit in 1.2 IP against the Blue Jays on June 3) that sent him to Pawtucket and led many if not most to ask: Is Daniel Bard ever going to be the same?

Why was there zero improvement in Pawtucket (7.03 ERA, 1.88 WHIP in 32 IP, including an appearance in Charlotte that saw Bard face six batters, giving up a single, recorded a fly out, walked a batter, hit a batter and then walking the next two before being yanked. Twenty-six pitches, nine strikes.)?

Why, on August 20 — after a stretch that saw him walk 12 batters over his prior six appearances in Pawtucket– did Cherington tell us that Bard would definitely be promoted this season?

And now, after allowing three runs and three walks in a third of an inning in the sixth inning of Wednesday night’s 13-3 loss to the Rays, Bard has a 24.33 ERA since being recalled from Pawtucket. He spent three months in Triple-A to “work things out” and returned exactly the same pitcher we saw in Toronto on June 3.

Which leads, inevitably, to more questions.

Is Daniel Bard ruined? Can this career be salvaged? And how badly have the Sox bungled the entire process?

It’s uncomfortable at best to see Bard struggle like this. Even those who strongly advocated against moving Bard out of the bullpen and into the rotation (Full Disclosure: I was for the move, figured a potential No. 2 or No. 3 starter under club control was tougher to find than a top reliever, or at least more valuable) could never have imagined the worst-case scenario occuring, but here we are.

There’s still time to re-write the ending, of course, but if you somehow stumbled over to NESN on Wednesday and watched Bard throw 16 hopeless pitches (four strikes) you saw Steve Blass, you saw Rick Ankiel. That’s the reality of the situation with Bard, who was one of the half dozen best relief pitchers in baseball 13 months ago.

Probably everything seemed real easy when things were good. But now Bard is as lost as a pitcher can be, buried in the weeds with seemingly no way out. Each time he seems to hit bottom — Toronto, Charlotte, Wednesday night — there is another disaster looming, another confirmation that there is every reason to doubt if this will ever be a major-league pitcher again, forget an elite one.

I understand the Sox are in a tough spot with Bard here. They want his season to end on something that looks like progress, and Wednesday doesn’t exactly qualify. But it’s time to shut Bard down, let his miserable season finally end. There is zero benefit to dragging him out two or three times over the last 12 games. None. We’ve seen the evidence, we have a sample size. I have no idea if shutting him down will reap long-term benefits. It might not. But I know the solution isn’t pitching him again this season.

Let it end, at least for now. Hope he can figure it out in the offseason, hope something clicks, even hope there is some injury that surfaces that explains the staggering loss of velocity and control. At least it would help solve the biggest mystery of 2012 for the Red Sox, no small feat with this bunch.

Don’t focus on whether or not he deserves to be back, or if he was given a fair shot, or which players despise him and tried to get him fired at that meeting in New York and just ask yourself this: Can you envision a scenario — short of a miracle run to the playoffs, which really isn’t going to happen — which has Bobby Valentine in Fort Myers next February ready to begin his second year with the Sox?

Impossible. It’s not going to happen. One and done. Too much baggage and not nearly enough success. It’s a shame that these mutinous, underachieving and enabled players will get what they want, but that’s life in professional sports in 2012.

And, ultimately, Valentine was toast when he criticized Kevin Youkilis in April. Dustin Pedroia ripped him and Ben Cherington(think he’ll get to pick the next guy?) backed the player, not his manager. And instead of being the Bobby Valentine we were being sold by Larry Lucchino when he was hired — the anti-Francona, not afraid to make comfortable guys uncomfortable — he apologized, surrendered without a fight. From that point on it was over, he was managerially castrated. That was his chance to show that this was his team and he blew it.

So now the obvious question is beginning to kick around — who’s next? Who will be the third Sox manager in three seasons?

“We can say the Red Sox players need to look in the mirror and not the manager’s office for the problem,” Sherman writes. “But the reality is this core is coming back again next season and, if that is the case, the Red Sox are going to need to find someone who commands instant respect and who can begin to re-establish sanctity and sanity within what has become a Wild West baseball setting. Varitek should have that immediately with this group because it is so familiar with his preparation, professionalism and sturdiness as a teammate. ‘¦ Varitek fits the mold of someone you believe could blend leadership, seriousness of purpose and the ability to communicate with today’s players. He also has institutional memory of when the Red Sox were a model franchise and not a group ready to turn each manager into ‘Shark Week’ chum.”

Makes some sense, right? Varitek absolutely has “future manager” written all over him, should he decide to pursue that position in the future. Don’t know if he’ll be any good at it, impossible to predict, but it wouldn’t shock me at all if he’s the manager of the Red Sox one day.

But it would make no sense — none — for that to be in 2013.

The climate needs to change. We all agree on this. An outsider — the right outsider, not one brought in because he’s cheap and will create a buzz — is a must. And one season removed does not make Jason Varitek an outsider. He’s the ultimate insider, tied into this team as much as any figure over the last decade. Varitek debuted with the Sox in September of 1997 and played his last game on September 25, 2011. He’s part of the culture of this team, good and bad.In fact, it’s not hard to argue that Varitek created part of this culture.

Clearly, Varitek was a terrific leader for most of his career. But let’s be fair, there are often things edited when the former captain is lavished with praise. It seems to me that people — Sherman included — forget that Varitek was in the clubhouse all of September last year. The collapse — and all that was happening behind the scenes — was going on under his captaincy, under his watch.

And the idea that all is wrong with Beckett and Lester and Lackey will suddenly be cured if Varitek takes over Valentine’s office is absurd, of course. Beckett had lousy seasons (and good ones, to be fair) with Varitek on the roster. John Lackeywas the worst pitcher in baseball last year, and Varitek caught some of those hideous starts. The solution isn’t that simple.

Plus there’s this: It’s just too soon. You want to put him on the staff, make him a bench coach, get his post-playing career started? Sure. I get that. But Sherman brings up the success of Robin Ventura and Mike Matheny, first-year managers in cities where they played, when advocating a possible Varitek hire, which doesn’t work. Ventura retired in 2004 and last played for the White Sox in 1998 and Matheny played his last game for the Cardinals in 2004. If Varitek managed the Sox in 2018 — when almost all of these guys will be gone — that could work. But almost every player in that current locker room would look at Varitek as a teammate, not a manager. And Varitek has made his affection for Beckett and Lester and Lackey plenty clear.

He’s lousy casting as the guy to come in fix things, if only because he was around and did nothing when it started to go wrong.

“Are athletes special people? In general, no, but occasionally, yes. Johnny Pesky at 75 was trim, youthful, optimistic, and practically exploding with energy.”

— Bill James

Johnny Pesky was a lot of things.

In no order — manager, announcer, Navy veteran, husband, Halberstam subject, baseball lifer, father, storyteller and part of the Greatest Generation.

There are other people who knew Johnny Pesky far better than I did who will no doubt write wonderful stories about his life and times over the next couple of days, filled with anecdotes from Sox players over the last 60 years. I suggest you find those stories and read them — and here’s hoping Pesky will be the subject of the first column of Bob Ryan’s next chapter with the Globe.

Instead I wanted to take a look at Johnny Pesky the player. Look, the Pink Hats looked at Pesky as a mascot, or the lovable grandfather of Wally the Green Monster, and I get why. The man retired in 1954, the same year Dennis Eckersley was born. For some, it’s hard to imagine, I suppose, that when John Michael Paveskovich (changed his name legally in 1947) would shuffle out for a standing ovation or throw out a first pitch over the last decade or two that this was once a great baseball player.

But he was. Talk to his teammates — and look at the numbers — and this becomes clear in a hurry.

“He could really put that ball in play — his first three years he had over 200 hits,” said former pitcher Boo Ferriss, who played with Pesky from 1946-50, from his Mississippi home on Monday night. “That’s an incredible record, to do that before and after the Navy. He usually hit second, Ted [Williams] hitting third in the lineup. He was an on-base guy for Ted. He didn’t steal a while lot of bases, because that would leave first base open for Ted. But he could really just spray that ball around, went with the pitch.”

As a 22-year-old rookie in 1942, Pesky led the American League with 205 hits, was sixth in runs scored with 105 — he scored at least 100 runs in each of his first six seasons — was second to Williams with a .331 batting average and was third in MVP voting, behind Joe Gordon and Williams (who got absolutely screwed — Gordon had a perfectly representable season but Williams had 18 more homers, 34 more RBI, hit 34 points higher, slugged 157 points higher and scored 53 more runs) for a team that won 92 games. His one screaming flaw that season? Strikeouts. Pesky set a career high that year with 36.

The Rookie of the Year Award wasn’t introduced until 1947 (when just one was given out, the AL and NL each got winners in 1949) but Pesky almost certainly would have been a blowout winner in 1942. It stands as one of the great debut seasons in major-league history, right next to Fred Lynn and Ichiro and Dwight Gooden and Albert Pujols and Mike Trout. This was looking an awful lot like the start of a Hall of Fame career.

As a rule, you shouldn’t boo an injured player. You know that, I know that, and the (alleged) sellout crowd at Fenway Park knows that.

But this is different.

The fans weren’t really booing Josh Beckett for leaving Tuesday night’s game with back spasms. It was a terrific excuse at the perfect time. They were booing Josh Beckett for last September, booing Josh Beckett for coming back this season and never acknowledging that he was a significant player in the collapse and all that followed, booing Josh Beckett for being a mediocre pitcher this season, a season that has defined Beckett every bit as much as 2007, booing Josh Beckett for playing golf after missing a start with an injury, booing Josh Beckett for being out of shape last season and looking out of shape this season, booing Josh Beckett for “We get 18 off days a year,” booing Josh Beckett for making $15 million (though to be fair, I’m pretty sure he didn’t go into Theo Epstein‘s office with a gun and a $68 million contract) and booing Josh Beckett for still being in Boston after the trade deadline, which also gave them a chance to boo Ben Cherington and Larry Lucchino.

Beckett was the face (or chins) of the collapse last year, and he’s still the face of a team that — even with a four-game winning streak — is a whopping two games over .500 on Aug. 1. The underachiever on a hugely underachieving team. Maybe this team will keep winning and winning and prove all of us wrong. Who knows? But if it doesn’t, and Beckett continues his individual duel of lousy starts vs. DL stints, nothing will change.

And we’re told that Beckett doesn’t care what we think, that, to paraphrase the late and very great Gore Vidal, beneath Beckett’s cold exterior, once you break the ice, you find cold water. OK. He’s not going to apologize for who he is and why he does (or doesn’t do) what he does. Stubborn, prideful, all that. Got it. And I think, for the most part, Beckett has been given a free pass around here. His managers (with Bobby Valentine every bit as guilty as Terry Francona), pitching coaches, front office, fellow pitchers (and doesn’t it just seem so wrong to see John Lackey in the dugout every night?) and, yes, the media all have played a role in enabling Beckett. And the fans are done with it. That’s what you heard Tuesday night.

And spare me the idea that fans in Boston should know better than to boo an injured player. No kidding. But this is an outlier. If Felix Doubront or Clay Buchholz or Alfredo Aceves or any other pitcher on the roster — Jon Lester included — left the game with a back injury, no one would boo. And if Josh Beckett had blown out his knee or broke an ankle and was carried off the field, no one would have booed.

Look, we all get it. We really do. Francona is still Level 5 pissed about all that happened last year — the failure of ownership to pick up his options during the season, agreeing to play along with the idea that his exit was a mutual decision and not a firing, and of course the natural suspicion that Someone Upstairs was one of the leaks to Bob Hohler. He was embarrassed, his reputation was injured, and no one in ownership (particularly the now-reclusive John Henry) jumped, walked or even raised a finger at the chance to publicly defend the character of the most successful manager in franchise history.

Yup, no checks were bounced, no contracts were violated. Understood. The Red Sox paid Terry Francona millions and millions of dollars to manage a baseball team until they didn’t want him to manage anymore. It happens all the time. But let’s be fair: Lots of times we don’t know who is right and who is wrong but not on this one. Ownership v. Francona is a battle the Sox will never win. And, at 51-51 with chaos rife in the organization — you can’t handle things worse than the Sox did with Carl Crawford on Saturday, total amateur hour — Francona looks better every single day. I had no problem with Francona losing his job last year for all the reasons that have been laid out a million times, but I think we all, on July 30, now know that last September wasn’t really Francona’s fault.

And that’s why I was stunned to read about Francona walking into the Sox locker room at Yankee Stadium on Saturday afternoon, pulling up a chair and holding court with a dozen or so players as if the last nine months had never happened. Bizarre at best, calculated and fueled by revenge at its worst.

Listen, obviously there are occasionally familiar faces in the clubhouse before games. But this isn’t Kevin Millar or Sean Caseyor Nomar Garciaparra. Francona is hugely popular with a significant voting block on that team, many if not most of whom aren’t thrilled with the guy who took Francona’s job. Also, there’s the very public matter of serious acrimony between ownership and Francona, and that’s not in the past tense. There have been recent tales of more phone calls unanswered and disrespect and confusion and promises broken and all the drama that has made for thousands of hours of hideous country music over the years.

Francona is clearly affected by this, understandably. He’s hurt. But it’s time to stop, to stop talking about his feelings to the media, to stop making a case that has already been judged and rendered many times over. We get it, there’s no new ground to cover. You’ve won and it’s not even close. No one thinks the owners are right on this. Quit while you’re ahead.

But it seems he can’t do that. Don’t be confused, what Francona did on Saturday was done only to symbolically give ownership the middle finger. He put Valentine in a terrible position, made him look weak (he sent Valentine a text message to apologize the next day) in front of players who don’t mind Valentine looking weak. It was a power play that was completely unnecessary, a bully move made out of frustration for allowing himself to be bullied. When you get divorced, you lose the right to go back into your old house, put your feet up and have control of the remote.

Terry Francona needs to move on. He’s not going to get an apology from John Henry or Larry Lucchino or Tom Werner. If that was going to happen it would have happened already. If he really doesn’t know who the leak (or leaks) are in the Hohler story, he’s not going to find out from those guys. Fool me once and all of that. Nothing is going to change, and he has to accept it. It’s still OK, I guess, the wounds are still fresh, but how much longer until Francona’s semi-regular pity parties become pathetic?

The moral high ground is a wonderful thing (I’m told). Francona, in the public eye at least, owns it against Sox ownership. In a perfect world that should be enough, right?

Full disclosure: I was in the camp that believed moving Daniel Bard to the starting rotation was a risk worth taking. Potential upside, a good starting pitcher is more valuable than even a very good reliever, if it fails he can always go back to the ‘pen, all the same stuff you heard from everyone else supporting the move in the offseason.

Well, it turns out I was wrong, Ben Cherington was wrong and Daniel Bard was wrong.

Bard was a flop as a starter, a complete wipeout. In 55 innings pitched he allowed 32 earned runs (5.24 ERA), walked 37 batters, hit eight batters and struck out just 34 guys (he had never been below a K an inning as a reliever). The velocity was down and the command was nonexistent.

His final start — five runs, six walks, two batters hits in 1.2 IP against the Blue Jays on June 3 — was confirmation. Fair or not, enough of a sample size or not, Daniel Bard was going back to the bullpen. OK, the Sox sent him down to Pawtucket two days after the start in Toronto to “work things out,” with no comment on if he’d be a starter or reliever when he got back to Boston, but the ultimate conclusion was obvious.

When Daniel Bard returned, he’d be back in the bullpen. No question about it.

But after nearly a month in Pawtucket, the question has changed.

Has the failed conversion to starter ruined Daniel Bard?

One year ago, Bard was maybe the best relief pitcher in baseball, at least in the top dozen or so. A year ago today, he pitched a scoreless inning against the Phillies, completing a June that saw him allow no runs and four hits in 13.0 innings pitched. That was followed by another scoreless month in July.

This June? Bard has a 7.15 ERA in 11.1 innings for Triple-A Pawtucket, with eight walks and four batters hit.

And Friday night was the bottom (to date, anyway) for Bard. He faced six Charlotte batters and gave up a single, recorded a fly out, walked a batter, hit a batter and then walked the next two before being yanked.

Twenty-six pitches, nine strikes.

Look, maybe Bard will figure it all out and be OK. But it’s fair to at least wonder if we are in Act I of another Steve Sax, Rick Ankielor Chuck Knoblauch. Again, maybe something clicks and he’s the Bard of last summer, but haven’t seen this story enough times to at least have some pause? Are you convinced that Bard will be an elite major-league reliever again? Because right now — and I’m assuming he’s physically healthy, there’s no way the Sox would be trotting him out to pitch like this in Pawtucket if he was hurt — he’s a terrible minor-league reliever.

Right now, this story isn’t tracking much. We look at the box scores and shake our heads, but other issues are pressing. Plus this: The Sox bullpen has been terrific the last two months, so Bard hasn’t been missed all that much. But what happens if Matt Albers or Scott Atchison or Andrew Millercome back to what they’ve been before this season, which I hate to tell you isn’t exactly out of the realm of possibility? What happens when the 2012 Red Soxneed Daniel Bard?

There’s no way to answer that. The Red Sox took a chance and it has backfired spectacularly and with ramifications that could last long past this season. The story just seems to get uglier and uglier with each outing. Because right now Daniel Bard finds himself lost in the tall grass. Others have been there and not found their way out.

Will Bard? Impossible to predict. It sure doesn’t look good, but I’ve been wrong about him before.

“It’s starting to become the s—hole that it used to be. Playing here used to be so much fun, and now every day it’s something new not even related to baseball. People need to leave us alone and let us play ball, man, and let us do what we know how to do.”

So David Ortiz went on a mini-rant Thursday. I’m not sure I disagree with the message, it’s just that I can’t buy the motive of the messenger.

Is the media in Boston fueled by negativity? Sure, we all know that. Things have changed over the last decade or so, success and a million media outlets will do that. I wrote about this earlier in the week — controversy equals ratings and page views. There’s no way around it, figuring out the mystery of a toxic clubhouse (which really just means figuring out who hates who) is going to attract more eyeballs than writing about the maturation of Andrew Miller. The majority of people covering the Red Sox want the Red Sox to struggle. That’s just the reality of things.

So Ortiz is right. When things are ugly — and I get this team is playing better, but 35-33 after last September absolutely qualifies as ugly — there is a s—hole vibe that exists. And I’m sure it’s not fun for Ortiz or any other player or Bobby Valentine or the front office. Understood.

But I’m not really sure what Ortiz expects from the media. Walk me through this one: Buster Olney is by every account one of the handful of best baseball reporters in the country. Does anyone think he just invented a story about a toxic clubhouse to get a little attention, to make a three-day splash? Does he really need to do that? Is there anything in his history to suggest that he would do that?

Ortiz shouldn’t be pissed at Olney, who is just doing his job. He had sources — anonymous ones, which always drive me crazy, but sources still — and used them. You think Olney put a gun in someone’s mouth and demanded some juicy stuff? Ortiz should be pissed at whoever is talking to Olney or Chris Singleton or Sean McAdam or whoever else is reporting about friction within this organization. That’s the problem. If no one talks, if no one leaks, it will end. Was anyone asking about clubhouse issues before Olney’s report?

Also there’s this: Ortiz is always quick to use the media when it’s time to bitch about his contract. He doesn’t seem particularly concerned about being left alone when wants to forward his agenda.

Barring a significant injury to Will Middlebrooks, Adrian Gonzalez or David Ortiz while he’s still on the roster, Youkilis will not finish the 2012 season with the Red Sox.

It’s over. He’s been a terrific player for a majority of his career in Boston — back-to-back top six MVP finishes in 2008-09, a career .388 on-base percentage, a .500/.576/.929 line in the ALCS win over Cleveland in 2007, you know all the greatest hits — but it’s time for Youkilis to go.

And I’m not sure why it hasn’t happened already.

Walk me through a couple of things here: Kevin Youkilis is batting .219 with a slugging percentage of .352. He’s 33 years old, has been on the DL in each of the last four seasons and had his least productive year in 2011. It’s screamingly obvious that this is a guy very much on the back nine (and that might even be optimistic) as a player of any relevance.

Kevin Youkilis, it would seem, can play three positions. One is, of course, third base. Right now he is (at best) the second-best option at third base for this team. We’ve seen enough to know that Middlebrooks is already a significantly better player than Youkilis at this stage of his career. As lousy a season as Adrian Gonzalez is having, his numbers are still better than the ones put up by Youkilis. And David Ortiz — who sat on the bench Tuesday night as Youkilis played first and batted third in the lineup — is the best DH in baseball. Ortiz, who hit his 15th homer of the season on Wednesday, has an OPS of .977 this season, fifth in the American League. Youkilis has an OPS of .655.